


The Gift Bundle

by BlueRam



Category: Bleach, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Naruto, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Slash, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRam/pseuds/BlueRam
Summary: A series of unrelated prompts and pairings chosen at random. AU, slash, mpreg, male/male pairing





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters for the bundle except fro the OMC who is a character from an interrelated series of original work. One of which is posted on this site as "Awa's descent".

Pairing: Madara Uchiha x Harry Potter

Prompt: Madara finally introduces his family to his clan and friends during a party.

**Requested by TiiRawr**

Harry couldn't help the gentle smile as he listened to their small village come alight with wonder and joy. Children excitedly ran after their mother's; pulling at the tails of their kimono's, their fathers laughing with deep joy, eyes alight as they watched their progeny frolic around with such youthful sparks. All this with the slowly rising sun that smiled at procession on their way to the local shrine deep in the mountains, untouched by man for the most part. It was expected, it was the New Year, a wonderful spiritual holiday filled with hope and new things to come in the Elemental nations, a country isolated from the rest of the world. Oshogatsu was so similar to Christmas in Britain, with songs and festivals, emphasis on family and building new memories and dreams…he couldn't help but sigh happily.

It would be something he would never tire of, especially this Oshogatsu as new life grew within him, his hand resting over the slight almost unnoticeable swell of his abdomen.

"Chichi-ue! Chichi-ue, Tou-san said we're going to the big mountain! Is it true, is it?!" A little girl came barreling into their small house. Her raven hair was caught in two pigtails, a single curl bouncing out of place on her forehead as large dark eyes stared up at him from the counter he stood behind, carefully pounding rice to make Kinako mochi. Madara said it was the traditional food was for luck, a strange wistful look in his eyes as he had guided Harry's hands in forming the shapes. He had no shame in admitting that even after ten years after his travel to the Elemental nations for a new start, he still couldn't make it right.

Madara of course indulged him with teasing smirks, willing to show his husband yet again the simply process of making rice cakes. Yes…his husband, he had married the man for nine years now, the second year of their marriage bearing fruit with their little girl. Their little Chiharu, with her sunny smile and an alarming sadistic streak when it fancied her.

"Idiot! Tou-san said the big leaf, not the big mountain!" Another child muttered with an annoyed glare, he was obviously the younger of two, even with his too serious scowl and knitted eyebrows. Isao Uchiha, Harry's second born, only a year younger at seven with eyes just as dark as his sister. He was a serious little boy, preferring to stick his nose in the odd scrolls Madara would bring along from his travels than play with the village children. His hair was quite long, wrapped in a messy bun at the top of his head, just like his Chichi-ue.

"Kids." Harry warned, green eyes sharp and piercing, finding it better intervene before he had yet another sibling quarrel on his hands, on Oshogatsu no less. Chiharu only pouted at the reprimand, sticking her tongue out at her brother before climbing up on the counter stool, peering in the obvious mess Harry had made of the rice.

"You're not good at that are you, Chichi-ue." Chiharu frowned, poking at the sorry lump of rice that Harry intended to be food. Of course she could practically hear Isao's eyes rolling, the boy scoffing before making himself comfortable by the window, his unfinished book open before him.

"Chiharu, don't be mean to your Kaa-chan, he's sensitive." Harry glared at the obviously amused voice, Madara walking into the house with a bag filled with rice stalks and other things to make kadomatsu.

"Chichi-ue, Tou-san! He doesn't like it when you call him Kaa-chan!" Isao interrupted sharply, closing the book with force before glaring at his father. Isao Uchiha…the serious little boy who couldn't take a joke to save his life…was a momma's boy. Madara couldn't help the slight laugh, unaffected by the sharp glare from dark eyes that more resembled his brother Izuna than his own. His brother…hadn't he died, he would have loved Isao…spoiled him even…love Harry too. His husband that glared unamused as he pummeled the obviously dead rise at this point.

"Is that anyway to talk to the person who brought you rice from such a long distance so you could—"

"You got it from old man Shiro's field! I'm not dumb Tou-san." Isao was not amused, rolling his eyes at his spluttering father, before moving from his perch to his mother. Without a word the little boy hugged an amused Harry, mumbling that he was going to make kadomatsu in their fruit garden.

"Hey, wait up! I'm going to make kadomatsu too!" Chiharu ran after her brother, quickly grabbing the bag Madara held out before racing out the door.

"My children hate me." Madara mock frowned, carefully wrapping his arms around Harry, hand laying over the swell of his stomach. He hoped for another girl, one who would put up with his doting, unlike his precious tomboy Chiharu. Harry merely hummed, giving up on the rice with an annoyed huff. Turning in his husband's arms, he placed a hand against Madara's cheek, smiling softly when the man's eyes closed, nuzzling into the warmth.

"So…the big leaf?" Harry tentatively broached, feeling as Madara stiffened for a moment, holding him closer…as if he expected him to despair before his eyes. With a heavy sigh, the man buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, breathing in the sweet smell of sakura blossoms and some spice that was from the European continent he never much cared for.

"My clan…Hashirama expects my return. I've been away from Konoha for too long…I have a duty to them even if…"

"Even if they hate you." Harry finished with a frown. He had heard a lot about Konoha, how wonderful it was…perfect for raising a family. He didn't think so though…from Madara's lips he had only heard stories of judgmental people, self-righteous people, who would spit upon his husband's efforts…never mind that he was one of the founders of their _precious_ village.

He might have been a tad bias in his opinion, but he would be as bias as he needed to be to protect his husband! He woke from his furious muse at Madara's low chuckle, the man looked amused at Harry's fierce glare, ready to go to war for him. He laughed again at Harry's unimpressed glare, kissing soft lips before pulling away slightly.

"It's Oshogatsu tradition, Harry. Meeting with family…it's right in time for or permanent move to my village."

Harry huffed before turning away from Madara, grabbing for yet another bag of rice.

"I'm perfectly content with living in this little village…but if you insist." Harry drawled, unable to hide the smile as Madara wrapped his arms around him yet again.

"Hn."

* * *

"He's here! I can feel it…and someone else too, it's faint though." Hashirama began excitedly, jumping on the balls of his feet beside his smiling wife, only for his enthusiasm to be cut short in confusion. Tobirama rolled his eyes at his brother, taking another sip of his tea in distaste before observing the gathering. He didn't understand why he was here, he didn't much like the Uchiha, and despite the presence of his own clan, they were surrounded by the damn vermin! Red eyes flickered through the wide windows of the neutral clan house, a strange calm over him as he watched the sun's final descent as day gave way to night. Around him he could make out muffled conversation, his brother trying desperately to sense who could be with Madara but not quite figuring it out and the Uchiha elders muttering angrily among themselves about who they would force the man to marry, if only to carry on the true Uchiha main line.

Tobirama stiffened at the suddenly strong fluctuation of…chakra? It felt like chakra, but—no—it' wasn't it was something more chaotic maybe—a strange mix of Madara' Uchiha's chakra and something across the continents maybe? He didn't have to wait long for his answer, the ajar double doors of the can house slowly swung open to reveal Madara. He was of that serious visage he always seemed to hold, even if he would lighten up in the presence of Hashirama. Something fierce was in his eyes, even when he stepped aside slightly to reveal a much shorter man, unique in his beauty with luminous green eyes that glowed with restrained power—ah, so that's what he felt. He was obviously from the foreign continents…and were those…children?

"Madara! Welcome back old friend!" Hashirama grinned, moving to envelop his best friend in a hug, only to be stop in his pursuit by a sharp glare from what looked like a mini-Izuna!

"Back off, closet perv!" Chiharu hissed, coming to stand before her father arms akimbo, with her brother at her side, book gripped tight in his hands.

"I regretfully agree with what the the idiot said." Isao sniffed, wholly unaffected when his sister punched him in the shoulder none too gently. Harry watched on with amusement, very much aware of the suspicious stares being sent his way, stares that became heavier and filled with ill intent when he rested a delicate hand over the slight swell of his stomach.

Hashirama spluttered in shock and offence, especially when his wife began to laugh at his misfortune, her soft giggles carrying across the room.

Madara snorted, gently resting a hand on Isao's shoulder as he wrapped his arm around Harry's waist, Chiharu quickly burrowing into her "chichi-ue's" side.

"Hashirama…Uchiha clan. I present to you my husband, Harry Potter of the European continent, runes and seals master of the third order and my children, the future heirs of the Uchiha clan. Chiharu Uchiha and Isao Uchiha." Madara didn't even hide the smirk when the clan house erupted in chatter, elders gesturing furiously and in contempt as Hashirama paled comically falling none too gently in a dead faint.

In the far corner, Tobirama Senju frowned, eyes never straying from the amused Harry. Eyes never straying as said man pinned him in place with a dangerous predatory glare. New Year…what wonders would it bring? New enemies and allies a like…new life…what wonders indeed…


	2. Chapter 2

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Harry Potter

Prompt: ( )

Special note: Harry as MOD (Master of Death)

**Requested by: R . A Cross**

"It's what you wanted isn't it? To see the truth…to watch his world unravel time and time again to prove that you were right. To prove that the path you took was just?" Harry flinched at the icy breath against the shell of his ear. How cold each word was, the undertone of hissing snakes searching for the deceit in his own words…in his own beliefs.

He had done the right thing, he stood by the truth that he had done the right thing! Dumbledore didn't lead him astray, Voldemort was mad! They had all seen it, from the moment of the first war and then the second…when the man would kill man, woman and child without a thought. Would slaughter innocents to see his will done…and even then, what was his will to begin with? What did Voldemort fight for?

"Guilt…how fragile humans are that they so easily succumb to it. It disgusts me…you disgust me, my _precious_ master." The drawl was mocking as frigid phantom limbs wrapped around his body, a feeling of dread and fear that was not his own, borrowing under his skin… the echoes of tortured souls long gone… music that served to torture his weary soul. He stood at the edge of a tall building, unseen by the masses of people who lumbered below, smog thick and heavy in the air, and sunlight barely breaching the self-imposed barrier that humans had created.

That's right…the world he had once known no longer existed, not since becoming the Master of Death without so much of a choice and more so necessity. Everything he had ever known had turned on its head without him ever realizing, a slow poison that spread its roots the moment he had won the second wizarding war in 1998. He had attained immortality, something so many sought and did not understand. He stood on the sidelines as his friends aged, lived their lives and their family grew. Watched as they desperately tried to keep him anchored to their reality, as month after month he slowly began to dissociate.

Dissociate until he was no more…lost in the moments of what ifs on the behest of ruby eyes that were once beautiful dark pools. As it were, the world moved on without him. The world destroyed itself with countless wars, laid its grave with the desecration of Mother Nature…oh how here children slight her so. He stood, untouched by time, numb… yet…a strange stir of fire within his heart. With death at his back, draped in the cloak of invisibility he closed his eyes…and wondered.

What if…

He woke in the year 1945… his present 1960. He hadn't time travelled, that much he understood, but for some odd reason death had answered his wish…and his 'what if' became reality. Death had questioned if he was confident that the path he had took as the 17 year old Harry Potter was the right one, the just one. He had said yes, vehemently so…Voldemort could not be saved, he had fallen too far, and even if Tom still existed within the monster…nothing would have been different.

That's what he had thought…still stood by, even though he…

"Tell me, Master. What did Voldemort fight for? Will you put an end to him yet again…even with your fragile…"

* * *

"Ah, so you're back." Tom drawled lazily as he turned yet another yellowed page of on old tome Harry couldn't begin to understand. The man didn't seem interested in the least, hunched over his work table as he ignored the world around him, the flames of the fireplace casting an almost eerie reddish glow across the man's study.

"I just needed air, I told you I would return." Harry replied lightly, pulling of his coat before turning his back to the man to put it in its rightful place. He should have taken it off in the receiving room but…

He could feel Tom's heavy stare boring into his back, as if to catch him in a lie. It had always been that way between them, ever since he stepped into the man's life. He played the part of a small time clerk at on obscure book store in Knockturn Alley. No one would ask too many questions about his existence, not even question his strange likeness to the wealthy Potter family, so far removed from politics. He had caught Tom's attention, by being his clumsy self, literally falling over the man in an attempt to track down a book that had obviously been misplaced in the store.

Tom had not been amused, had sneered at him even with a weathered book clutched in his hands. A book with parseltongue script that he knew spoke of terrible dark magic…Horcruxes. Before the man could dismiss him, his eyes had set upon the mark of his exposed wrist…the symbol of the deathly hallows. Dark eyes had been unreadable…but in that moment he knew…

Tom…he would never let him go, not until he proved himself no longer useful to his cause. In that moment he had remembered Death's question…if he had chosen the right path, would he do what was needed to be done should Tom prove the making of Voldemort yet gain.

What was Voldemort's cause...?

"You think too loud." Harry didn't even flinch when a heavy hand fell on his shoulders. He had always been strangely aware of Tom…so aware that his purpose became blurred, and Death's question blurred at the edges. So aware that his heart raced, and his throat tightened up because merlin damn it he had…!

"Tom, you can't do this! It'll destroy you—you'll become a Merlin forsaken shadow of the ma..." Harry began furiously, turning to face Tom with a haunted look about him, green eyes wide as he desperately held onto the wizard's arms.

Tom, his expression was as dead as it always was…long fingers gripping Harry's chin and tilting the man's head towards him. Oh, how much terror and loss were in those glistening green eyes.

"Oh, I see. You love me…how quaint." Tom smirked cruelly, his thumb an almost gentle caress against soft skin. A shadow of a raspy undertone filled with mockery when Harry almost flinched, pulling away from the man.

"It is a horrible fate to live forever. You won't achieve your goals…you'll spell your own destruction." Harry spoke softly, glaring at the crackling fire as Tom moved back to his desk cluttered with horcrux research.

"And what are my goals, Harry?" Tom asked simply, amused as he ran his fingers over a single parchment, holding it tightly in his hand.

"I…" Harry said nothing else, clenching his hands tight, his heart hammering painfully in his chest, something burning at his eyes, but it could have never been tears.

"He loves me, and with his love his resolve is broken. Woe is you, Master of Death." Tom paused, before finally looking into Harry's eyes once more, his own dark eyes fierce—a flash of red in their wake as he spoke with a dangerously foreboding whisper.

"I will conquer death, I will see this world built in my image…and you, precious Harry… you'll stand by side and witness it all…after all, if you love me…how can you hope to stop me—destroy me."

Harry said nothing, his knuckles cracking for how tight he clenched his fist. Death was right, he felt guilt, but not for the reasons the entity thought. The path he took was the right one, he did not feel remorse for killing Voldemort in 1998, but here in this new reality. Time having restarted strangely in the blink of an eye, he felt guilt…because unlike what Tom thought, he would kill the man he loved to never see Voldemort born anew in the blink of an eye.


	3. Chapter 3

Pairing: Smenkhkare Msrah (OMC) x Harry Potter

Prompt: (OMC of royal birth, Harry agrees to help care for the child)

**Requested by Entrusting**

Loud and clear, the music rose in the dead of night. The market coming a life under the twinkling of sparse stars in the sky. Women wrapped themselves in fine silk, their laughter obscured by dyed cloths from villages afar. Sweet seduction as the music twisted around them, torches set alight, casting fine warm golden light upon mud walls and stone structures. No man or woman paid heed to the shadow that flittered through the town's street, expertly dodging the royal guards that walked by the twos, laughter loud from their lips as they lost them self in cheap ale.

The music sang true in his heart. An Arabian night, the flute twisting sweet seduction as street performers danced in their brightly colored cloths. Body paint smeared across their bodies, glittering in the ever cold night for a village in the center of the forbidden desert, twisted around the sprawling palace of the heir.

Smenkhkare Msrah, the one and only heir to the Msrah empire one of four, now three empires of the Majani world. He had a child they said, some woman had given birth to his son after seducing him with vile black magic from the kingdom of Ashrani; the fourth kingdom that was burnt to the ground, destroyed for the treachery that was the air Ashrani breathed.

Magic was vile, the tool of seductress and thieves, the tool of deviants and blasphemers. The Msrah gods wept for that kingdom's corruption and so the people of Msrah rejoiced when their benevolent king ordered Ashrani's destruction.

Yes, the music sang true in his heart this night, but not for joy or for peace…revenge was the song that pumped through his veins, emerald eyes glistening like gold chips as he swept past useless guards and slinked down the corridors of Smenkhkare's palace. He was a shadow, trained to kill the enemy of his fallen empire; to see Msrah and all they stood for pay recompense for the innocent blood spilt, on the behest of their _poor seduced prince_. The holy men of his country doubted his skill, his loyalty…doubted that he would be able to drive the dagger deep where it mattered most.

Doubted him…for wasn't he the…it didn't matter. That was long ago when they were young and mere fools, when he himself was a prince and his country still stood proud. When magic was the air he breathe, his siblings laughing with joy in the streets, the country of Msrah known for war never perceived as a threat to their existence. Before he knew it, the double doors of the prince's private quarters eased open, silent unlike the night market outside that would sing and sensualize the stories of his country's defeat.

Drive the dagger deep where it mattered most…that's right, in Msrah… what was most precious was the first born son. Surrounded with tales of the blessings of their gods and the bounty one should receive for birthing a firstborn that was a son. What was most precious was the first born son of a king, then the first born son of the prince that was the progeny of the king. The loud wails of a child pulled him from his deep thoughts, dagger gripped tight as he slinked into the private rooms of the prince, a royal crib fitted with flowing thin silk of purples and reds, almost at the center of the room.

No one was there but the wailing child, his cries tearing at the heartstrings of whoever had a heart, would tear at his own if not for the duty he must perform that night.

He didn't think, didn't have time to…not with the sound of splashing water from the joining bath of the prince's quarters, not when the child's screams that woke something he tried desperately to ignore for the revenge of his people. Without thought, the dagger poised in the air, pale hands grasping at the flowing silk that shielded the child, the sound of poisoned metal slicing through the air echoed in his ear.

His heart raced, then throbbed painfully at the sudden silence—

"You disappoint me…I've never known you to ever miss your target. To commit such a terrible mistake with a wavering heart…whatever heart you claim to possess…Harry." His hand was held in a tight grip, painful as strong fingers dug into soft skin, the poisoned dagger clattering to the floor. Harry released the shuddering breath he did not realize he had held, his racing heart calming as he opened emerald eyed and for the first time looked into eyes of the babe he was ordered to kill. Pure innocence, the child had stopped wailing, wide gold eyes staring at him with so much confusion before small hands reached for him, an excited bubble of laughter from a small pouty mouth.

"Smenkhkare." Harry whispered, very much aware of the man plastered behind him. His strong build, naked and pressed against him as he held his hand captive, a hand tight an unforgiving around his waist. He glared down at the child that smiled so beautifully at him, his hair crimson red, and skin smooth mocha…the spitting image of his father.

"I will forgive you this transgression if you grant me just one thing, Ashrani witch." Smenkhkare was cruel, each word from his lips like the poison of the venomous snakes of the Djarkan empire, that if whispers were true would soon fall. Harry cursed himself for the hitch of his breath as the hand that had held his wrist captive trailed up the soft skin of his inner thighs, traitorous arousal raging as the memory of their heated past invaded his mind.

They were lovers once weren't they…are still lovers, his cruel mind hissed.

"We both know you lie! Be it by your will alone you would have me stripped bare to appease your sins!" Harry hissed, as he suddenly turned in the man's embrace a new dagger digging into the prince's throat, threatening to pierce through flesh and bone, as a trickle of blood staining ebony skin.

Smenkhkare only smirked, a wicked expression as his gold eyes glinted like the expertly carved blades he wielded, the blades he used to cut down all that stood in his way…be they enemy our friend. He was a handsome man, no one could dispute that, with his chiseled features and wine colored hair that past his shoulders. He was tall, exceptionally so…like all the warriors of Msrah were, covered in scars for battles won, and mistakes made.

"Appease my sins…truly a man after my own heart." Smenkhkare drawled, pushing the dagger away from his throat as he moved pass Harry the wood be assassin, and stared down at his son. The child squealed in excitement, a sound that grew louder as the man cradled his child against his chest. Smenkhakre couldn't ignore the sudden bout of fondness as he watched how Harry's ice cold façade softened in light of the bubbly child, how his hands flexed as if he wished to hold the child himself and protect him from the world.

His motherly nature would never be removed, even when beaten by Ashrani holy men for embodying the spirit of a woman. Harry, his precious Harry…his lover no matter how the man denied it, even as he returned time and time again to kill his son, only to end up wrapped in lust, giving in to the whims of his heart over his country's revenge. Laying with the Msrah prince that would soon be king, his sworn enemy because of love…Harry, precious Harry.

He was beautiful, would always be, with his flowing hair twined with jewels and soft black silk that wrapped around his lithe form, his skin strangely pale like that snow they spoke of in the Djarkan country.

Without thought he placed the babbling child in the startled magic user's arms, watching as the man cradled the child close to him, tears brimming at the edge of cold green eyes.

"This game of ours should end love…you have not the heart of a warrior. You are not like me who would cut down man woman our child without a blink of an eye, never mind their innocence."

"It's as I said before…do one thing for me, and I will let your transgression rest. Be the mother of my child, Harry. Be my consort and not only will you continue to live, but I myself will strike down the Msrah king with my own hands…see your country it's just revenge."

Harry froze at the words, eyes trained on the muscled back of the prince so many sang of as a cruel tyrant…yet his country celebrated with such vigor.

It was true, Smenkhkare was a cruel tyrant,

But…

Looking down at the smiling babe, a tiny hand held in his own as the child gurgled…he knew he already had his answer.


	4. Chapter 4

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x Harry Potter

Naruto /Harry Potter crossover

Prompt: ( )

**Requested by Mountain- Tenshi**

His pants echoed; too loud for any amount of stealth to prove relevant as he tried to catch his breath, his throat bobbing with a strange sense of anxiety as he raced through the thick foliage of a place he should have never been. Madara had warned him, coal eyes marked by stress lines and tired shadows, a making of a war that he had been born to. Uchihas didn't belong so far across the border, encroaching on enemy territory…Senju territory, the twenty year old would remind him, pale hands gripping into his own soft cheek with a desperation so many of their family knew.

Blood pumped furiously through his veins, the painful doki doki of his heart an answer to the rush of adrenaline as he weaved through hanging limbs, rough branches tearing into his skin.

He was being hunted. That man was coming and not even with his array of skills and senses could he escape. The hunter knew that, _he_ knew that…the damnable forest knew that, as it traitorous vines wrapped around his feet and sent him plummeting to the ground below. He hissed in frustrating, eyes squinting as his vision swam, the sudden silence that surrounded him foreboding as he struggled to just get up! Get off Senju territory and return home! Return to Madara and Izuna…and his…and _their_ father. Return to the Uchiha clan and their judging eyes, fearful of the sight of vivid jade that were his eyes.

Uchiha weren't born with green eyes, especially a green that represented poison jade, the seduction of a vile Majo…a vile witch that would spell their doom. He had become an omen for his clan…never mind that he wasn't Uchiha…that he wasn't Uchiha by blood. Not that the clan knew that.

Tajima Uchiha had made it clear to him. Told him of a story of a babe that so suddenly appeared before him in the midst of a terrible battle that cost so many of his clan's men life. Fresh blood spilt upon its skin, with a lock of crimson red hair held tight in tiny hands, curious thing as he held out said hand...surrounded by strange seals burnt into the ground. The child was special, Tajima Uchiha could feel it…a strange energy thrumming with such life as the babe looked up with startling green eyes.

Hari…the child would be Hari. The Uchiha clan's third honorable son, the youngest after Izuna, and the other two sons that had been stricken down by Senju dogs. He didn't matter where the boy came from, he would grow among the Uchiha, be ever loyal…breed his power within clan through his future progeny.

"Day dreaming. How predictable for Uchiha scum!" The voice was deep, smooth, with a thin trace of malice that he had come to realize would always be there. Hari smirked lightly as he struggled to his feet, blinding pain from his terrible fall above racing up his spine as he braced against the hallowed tree behind him.

"How predictable that a Senju dog would prey upon an injured soul for the glory of having one over the Uchiha clan." His hunter….Tobirama Senju, a tall imposing figure that should have intimidated him. With his blood red eyes and icy white hair…a reference to the man's biting cold soul. The Senju said nothing at first, thumb tracing against the sharp edge of his katana, a smear of blood for the slight movement as his eyes trailed over the Uchiha's relaxed form.

He know what he would see…pale skin, lips a bruised red and tumbling tresses of raven hair almost as chaotic as Madara's , having escaped its confine from his plummet from tall trees above. How lean he was, a body built for speed and stealth as he smirked lightly, jade eyes boring into red.

His heart that had been pumping furiously from the start of their unplanned chase slowly eased, even with the strange sense of anxiety…even when the Senju slowly moved towards him, his katana sheeted across his back. There were a breath away from each other; the cold wind playing with raven locks, a stray lock caught so quickly between Tobirama's long fingers as he leaned in even closer, barricading Hari against the tree.

So close to the man that should have been his enemy. He could smell the lingering trace of iron and steel, of battles fought and of crisp white snow…winter was approaching. Hari's eyes lingered on thin lips, a temptation he didn't want to resist as he swallowed lightly, Tobirama moving impossibly close, his body pressed into his slighter frame. There was a strange heat between them, a trap that held them both captive, even as blood red eyes refused to stray from jade…conflict shining through two pairs of eyes.

"Yes…how predictable, Hari Uchiha." Tobirama whispered, thumb tracing the soft skin of red lips that lightly opened with a held breath, a smear of his own blood an almost possessive mark. Madara… his dear older brother had warned him, worried with so much love and fear as he had looked into his green eyes. Stay away from the Senju borders he had said…they both knew he meant…stay away from the Senju's second honourable son.

Stay away from Tobirama Senju, it is for your own good…for all our good. Too bad he couldn't stay away. Even when both he and Tobirama were locked in battle, even when they became tangled limbs under star filled sky, bodies heaving with lust and uncontrollable fire. Even when Tobirama consumed him, stole his soul away, his hands like a furnace upon his body despite how cold the man was.

Forbidden.

He didn't fight it when thin lips captured his own, filled with so much hesitance and gentleness. A soft pull of his pouty lips as strong arms circled a thin waist. Didn't fight it when his own hands gripped the Senju's shirt almost desperately. The once soft kiss slowly became something fierce, a desperation both felt as Tobirama's arms tightened around Harry's waist, pushing him against the hard bark of that hallowed tree. A fire that wanted to burn so bright as Harry felt tears prickling at his eyes that were shut tight, his very soul crying out for the man...this enemy that he loved.

"I can't keep doing this...Hari...we can't..." Tobirama pulled away desperately, his breath laboured, red eyes troubled as he looked away in disgust, his arms still wrapped around the damn Uchiha. Hari said nothing at first, head bowed...his long hair obscuring the sight of his face.

"We can't...because I will be the one to kill you...or you will be the one to kill me. It is the way of the Senju and the Uchiha...dreams of peace and a home filled of children with your pretty jade eyes and my snow white hair...they are but dreams." Tobirama glared at his feet, finally pulling away from the only man that had awakened the slumbering fire in his soul. He didn't get far before a slender hand held on tight to the sleeve of his battle kimono, Hari still refusing to look up at him...until he did.

Jade eyes were fierce, a strange glint so reminiscent of Madara that Tobirama almost stepped back. He understood why his brother would be so taken with an Uchiha, they were a fierce people, felt deep...fell hard, and they would capture you so easily in the madness of their emotions.

"Leave with me! Leave with me, Tobirama!" Hari did not plead, but the grip of his hand, the glistening of his eyes spelt it all.

Tobirama stood still, shock evident as he stared into the eyes of Hari Uchiha...the one he so carelessly began to love...could he leave it all behind? Could he really run away, abandon his clan for an Uchiha and live his life.

The answer...

"Hari, I..."


	5. Chapter 5

Pairing: Hyōrinmaru x Kyōka Suigetsu

Prompt: Kyōka Suigetsu is lost in sad memories and Hyōrinmaru pulls him out of it.

Special note: Kyōka Suigetsu is the mother Zanpakutō of another Zanpakutō spirit.

**Requested by LaLaBlue**

Cold…why is it cold?

He was surrounded by thick mist and pure white, ice cold rain pouring from the heavens, weeping for something he couldn't quite understand. In the distance the wind howled and trees sang a mournful tune, a chorus that reached the deepest parts of his soul. Trees he couldn't see…couldn't possibly exist in this blanket of never-ending white.

Soul…what was a soul?

Kyōka Suigetsu curled in on himself, head buried against his knees as he wrapped his pale arms around them. His thick silver hair pooled around him, glistening strangely in a place that was simply white and nothing more, echoing sounds of things he would never see. The mask that he had always worn bit into his skin, a strange burn that had nothing to do with heat, but instead the chill that seeped underneath his skin.

"Kyōka." A voice whispered, echoing in the nothingness, an almost plead yet the Zanpakutō would not move, would not acknowledge the call. His arms tightened around him, strange tears—for he had never cried for the length of his manifestation—spilling down his cheeks, not that anyone would know…would see.

It hurt…why did it hurt?

His master had abandoned him! What else could it have been…why would he be left alone in this cold desolate world if not for abandonment? He didn't understand! What did he do wrong…why would his master slight him so! He trembled at the thought, cold winds hissing in his ear, revealing his weakness…revealing the ugliness that was his form. Was that why Aizen had abandoned him? Because he was weak…what good was he if he couldn't even please his master?

His one and only master…the one soul that should have been his home.

What was a soul?

"Kyōka. Kyōka!" There it was again, that voice. It was warm and deep, it felt like what home should be…but…it wasn't Aizen, it wasn't his master! He only wanted his master, he wanted the voice to just leave him alone!

"Kyōka, don't do this! Kyōka!"

So what if he faded by staying in this blank space of white, so what if the world burned by the hands of his master and Ichigo Kurasaki would be left to pick up the pieces. So what if…

"You're not a coward, Kyōka Suigetsu!" There it was again, that voice! Just—

"Leave me alone, damn it! Just leave, be gone!" Kyōka shouted angrily, a sound muffled slightly by the chesaa neko mask that was beyond intimidating. The Zanpakutō gasped when the ground around him began to freeze over, beautiful teal crystals erupting around him. Just like his slivery hair, there was a strange glitter about them, and then the never ending twinkling of bells. Kyōka almost fell back when a familiar Zanpakutō materialized before him, a swirl of frosted crystals and chilling snow. He could hear the muffled song…a Christmas song, a not so much holiday in japan but celebrated none the less.

_Dashing through the snow..._

_In a one horse open sleigh…_

_O'er the fields we go…_

"Hyōrinmaru?" Kyōka whispered, face tilted up as he looked into the calm eyes of the ice spirit. This being was that captain's partner…Tōshirō Hitsugaya. Aizen...hadn't liked that soul reaper, he could remember…he drew great amusement from their clashes, when they would both cross blades and his reishi would clash with another just as strong…Hyōrinmaru.

"Kyōka…beautiful Kyōka. Wake up love, we're waiting." Hyōrinmaru held out his hand, a gentle smile across his usual serious face, eyes unwavering.

Waiting…?

Who was waiting…?

"Kaa-chan! Kaa-chan, don't leave us! Please…Kaa-chan!" Kyōka looked around in fright, unable to tell why his heart ached from the cries of young…boys?

Why he felt that their world would end should he fade…

But Aizen abandoned him…he was useless!

"Kyōka! Beautiful Kyōka, come back to me." Hyōrinmaru whispered, his teal hair fluttering around him as he stepped closer to the trembling illusion spirit.

"Leave me alo—!" Kyōka began furiously, scrambling to his feet, only to be pulled and held firmly against a strong chest, the spirits chin resting atop his head as arms tightened around him.

"Love…come back to me, back to us."

He froze at the words, watched as the white space of nothingness fade to a brightly lit city. Cars drove pass honking loudly, people walked by without a second glance to them—they couldn't be seen—and the music of Christmas sang loud in the air. Children were happy, frolicking about as snow slowly fell from the sky…an air of peace.

Yes…that was right. Aizen had been long gone, defeated by the substitute Shinigami Ichigo, but not before he had been pushed out of Aizen's soul by the Hōgyoku. He had been abandoned…but not truly, he still had his eternal mate…Hyōrinmaru and his children, a manifestation of their combined reishi. Their sons, Sōgyo no Kotowari, the spirit of that soul reaper Ukitake.

"Kaa-chan! Kaa-chan!" Kyōka slowly turned in his mates embrace watching, with a tired smile as the twin spirits ran up to him, holding tightly to the soft silk of his kimono. He felt as his clay mask cracked in place, shattering before falling to the ground in pieces, just like that the cold left his body and warmth reigned anew. In the distance he could see the gathering of curious yet cautious soul reapers, their own Zanpakutō's grinning in excitement for the return of their fellow spirit.

He remembered now…he had been accepted by this strange group. In a new established tradition, they had made a trip to the world of the living to celebrate this strange holiday—not holiday—with the Kurasaki family.

"You scared us for a moment there, Kyoko!" Ichigo grinned, relief in his bright amber eyes, an obvious nervous grip on a familiar sword. That was his sword…oh. Ichigo had allowed him into his soul, to heal him he had said. He had found a home there…and Ichigo…loyal, honorable and brave Ichigo was his new Master.

He couldn't help the small smile that graced his delicate features, tears he wouldn't let fall sparkling in light silvery green eyes. Shyly the spirit hid his face in the cradle of his mate's neck, Hyōrinmaru chuckling in amusement but didn't bother to tease. He wasn't the teasing type at any rate.

"Kaa-chan, Kaa-chan! Ichigo-sama is going to teach us how to skate on ice! Isn't that cool!" The twin spirits grinned, blushing lightly when their mother spirit gently ruffled their silver-teal hair, guiding them to return to Jūshirō Ukitake's side. Said man bestowed Kyōka a hesitant smile before engaging Kyoraku in conversation, an obvious blush on his face as the man wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Kyōka?" Hyōrinmaru questioned softly as Kyoko borrowed further into his arms.

"Hyōrinmaru…ashiteru" Kyōka sighed, a small smile across pink lips when the spirit tilted his head and kissed him ever so sweetly. A lingering touch that made him yearn for more, having no shame to take another taste, and another.

"Kyōka Suigetsu…daisuki."


	6. Chapter 6

Pairing: Hashirama Senju x Harry Potter

Prompt: (Factions, soul songs and soulmates)

Special note: A new world, AU

**Requested by: Mini-BlueRam (my** **_younger brother_ ** **)**

"Please! I could run circles around Xavier a million times over before he could even string two words much less a sentence together!" Hermione rolled her eyes, black painted nails sparkling under the light of blue flames that floated above them in the cafeteria. Ron of course snorted at the declaration, drink held to his lips as he glanced around him, eyes landing on Harry that was for once in his life getting ahead with course work before it was too late.

"Come on, Harry! That's not due until two weeks from now! Live a little you closet workaholic!" Ron playfully punched Harry in his arm, ignoring Hermione's displeased glare as much as possible. The woman could be downright scary when she was ready, then again…it was expected of a Noctis witch. That's right…they were all witches. Man, woman and child alike, a part of the select factions that existed and ruled their world Tribus. There were three factions in total, Meiyo…the faction of the spirit warriors who embodied the energy chakra and lived by its doctrine of honour. Solas…the faction of elemental sages that embodied mother nature and her gift of life… and finally Noctis, the faction of magic and all it embodied but more so the course of death, a dark path no man would wish to venture.

In their world Tribus, there was a supreme order. The three factions though they coexisted, did not truly intermingle…it kept factions pure many whispered. Noctis witch would marry Noctis witch, Meiyo warrior would give birth to Meiyo warrior and Solas sage would devote their souls to Solas sage.

"If I don't get it done now, I'll be running around like a headless dorki in a bloody panic. I'll pass on that one." Harry grinned, pushing a lock of his short windswept curly hair out of his eyes, his black nails glistening just as much as Hermione's. Said woman frowned when she noticed the slight chip in the polish, pulling Harry's hand away from his face before whispering a soft spell under her breath, the polish whole once more. Green eyes looked at her curiously before pulling his hand away lightly, biting his lips nervously before turning his attention back to his text. He had been chosen by their elder to become the next codex holder for the Noctis, the embodiment of Tribus' supreme order. The role he was born to fill like his ancestors before him, being born of noble Noctis blood like Hermione and Ron.

A loud fit of laughter jarred him out of his consuming thoughts, eyes searching almost anxiously through the drove of people that occupied the cafeteria, a large group to the far end seem to be having the time of their lives. They were of the faction Meiyo, it was obvious with their attire, obvious warriors ready for battle at the drop of a hat…even without the sight of the many hidden weapons that was sure to be on their person. Among the group was a tall man, brown hair long past his shoulders and a handsome wide grin, a far cry from the usual serious Meiyo warriors.

"Hashirama Senju…it's rumored he'll be the next codex holder for the Meiyo faction…Madara Uchiha was apparently outvoted by even his own clan." Hermione muttered, a frown clear as she watched her friend and practically brother. Ron looked between the two in confusion, a potato chip hanging from his mouth comically, he could pick up that another conversation was being held between the two, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. He looked to Harry who stared with a strange emotion in his kohl lined eyes, his equally darkly painted lips nervously being bitten before he made eye contact with Hashirama. Harry quickly looked away, scribbling furiously in his text, avoiding the steady gaze that bore into his back, and the curious yet suspicious stares of the cafeteria at the brief exchange.

Almost as if a light bulb had gone off in Ron's head, blue eyes widened before he turned almost desperately to Harry.

"No! Tell me it's not—Harry—it's forbidden!" Ron shouted, only to shut his mouth quickly when their Noctis elder walked by, searching eyes almost boring into his soul before she walked on.

"Ron! It's not, just forget about it!" Harry hissed, furiously spinning another page of his book, trying desperately to memorize the incantation for his next necromancy ritual. Samhain would be in a few weeks… he would have to prove to the Noctis elder that he had what it took to complete and maintain the spell.

"Harry…you can't. You must know this! Noctis will always be with Noctis…the soul songs prove it. You would betray your given soulmate if you—" Hermione began desperately, scared for the path her brother had seemingly decided to take.

"I know damn it! You don't have to lecture me, Hermione!" Harry shouted angrily, furiously packing up his books as he stood from their table.

"You're going to be the next codex holder, Harry. Please, think about that…the supreme order is all that matters…you know what happens to those that break the order…especially those of noble blood." Hermione warned, her expression serious, her black painted lips turned down in obvious worry. Harry paused at her words, back turned to his two friends before he clenched his fist and walked away without a word.

* * *

Betray your given soulmate.

In Tribus, their existed the tale of soulmates, and soul songs. It was a private thing that not many spoke of, but was longed for among the factions. The tale spoke of a song shared between those destined for each other, you would be born with just half of that song…your soulmate would carry the other half. When you finally met, you both would complete that song…your souls forever whole. It sounded beautiful, ideal…even more so with the fact that throughout history your soulmate would always be in your faction, it validated the order that like factions remain with like faction.

Harry sighed as he strolled through the aisles of the empty library, fingers trailing against the spine of dusty books and old scrolls. He had never sung his soul song out loud, he didn't want to find his soulmate… not with the politics that surrounded it because he would be the next codex holder…not when he…

"Thought I would find you here." A deep warm voice interrupted Harry's thoughts, the witch smiling softly as he slowly turned around to see Hashirama casually leaning against the opposite book shelf. Of course the image of complete ease and confidence was broken by a tumbling book that the man barely dodged, tripping over his own two feet to almost fall on top of Harry. He was only saved by the delicate hands that pushed at his chest.

"You shouldn't be trespassing on Noctis territory, Hashirama!" Harry laughed lightly, green eyes glittering in amusement as he Hashirama crowded him against the bookshelf, lips a hairsbreadth away from his own. The man grinned, gently caressing soft pouty black painted lips with his thumb, brown eyes trained upon them with a barely restrained hunger.

"What's the point of neutral ground at this institution if we have boundaries and forbidden territory?" Hashirama whispered, leaning in for a kiss, only to be blocked by Harry's delicate finger.

"You can't kiss me remember. They'll know." Harry whispered, green eyes sad for a moment as Hashirama frowned, stepping back reluctantly. The man ran his hand through his long hair in frustration, glare trained down the dark aisles of the empty Noctis library.

"This is stupid! I can't touch you in public, I can't kiss you… I can't love you like so desperately want to love you! And for what…because of factions—because of soul songs and—that's it!" Hashirama's eyes lit up in excitement and so much hope. Harry almost stepped back at the light in the man's eyes, he knew that look, longed for it but that thought that ran rampant in Hashirama's head would only bring them pain.

"No! Hashirama, you know how it goes. Soul songs are only common once it's in our faction! You're Meiyo warrior and I'm Noctis witch, it's inconceivable that we'll be soulmates!" Harry cried out desperately, hands fastened over Hashirama's mouth before the man could reveal his half of a soul song.

"But Harry—!" Hashirama began desperately, but Harry wouldn't hear him, tears brimming in green eyes. Without a word Harry pushed away from the man, arms wrapped around himself as if to protect himself.

"Just don't, Hashirama! We both know our songs won't match, not when we're from opposing factions!" Harry didn't even wait for the man's response, quickly fleeing the library.

* * *

Harry held his head down, his cloak hiding his face as he walked slowly among the masses of students. Hermione and Ron had tried to catch his attention from across the room, but he honestly just wanted to be alone. After the disaster of a meeting between Hashirama and himself they hadn't spoken another word. There seemed to be a divide between them…and maybe it was for the best, their soulmates would be from their factions…they should get used to it.

"Harry!" Wide emerald eyes looked up in shock as Hashirama so suddenly walked up to him, around them their factions looked on with horrified eyes and hushed whispers.

"Hashirama! Don—!"

"—when stars bright light up this sky…diamonds shine in pure green eyes. I hope…" at the sound of Hashirama's soul song silence enveloped the masses, he didn't care about that though. What he cared about were the tears that so suddenly spilled from Harry' eyes, how the smaller figure shook with…sadness?

"Harry! I don't care if our songs don't match! I love you dam—!"

"—I hope my song will cross these lines and prove my love will never die." Harry whispered, a watery smile across his soft face as he looked into brown eyes.

"You're my soulmate!" Hashirama gasped in relief, uncaring of the consequences, uncaring of those who judged him as he kissed soft pouty lips for the first time. Harry trembled in the man's hold, feeling the warmth he longed for wrapped in his arms. At the end of the hall the triad elders watched with dead stares, hands clenched in anger.

Like faction with like faction…that was the supreme order. Even in the light of the unusual…a Noctis witch with the soul song of a Meiyo warrior.


	7. Chapter 7

Pairing: Sasuke Uchiha X Naruto Uzumaki

Prompt: Change the conversation they had before Sasuke left for his journey of redemption.

**For sasu-loves-naru**

He was...disappointed. He wouldn't admit it, never outloud at any rate...but he was. He thought that Naruto at least would have been here to...to what exactly? See him off as he left the leaf village yet again, so soon after a sense of normality was finally setting in. When the war had ended and children could be happy again, their laughter ringing through the air as they ran through the streets of a village being rebuilt.

"I could...I could come with you." Sakura's hesitant voice so suddenly ripped him from his straying thoughts. That's right, both she and Kakashi were here, team seven was here to see him off..except the one he wanted to see the most. He could see the hope shining in light green eyes, the strange love she claimed to have for him vivid even for one who would claim to be blind. Maybe...Maybe if he had known her longer, understood the real her, and she understood the real me...they could have...

No. It was impossible. Sakura loved him, but she didn't _love_ him. He could understand her familial love, they were family in a sense. She ,Kakashi...Naruto. Team seven was the family that he had never quite acknowledged, so lost in his grief and need for revenge. What Sakura had for him wasn't what he had come to know love as.

Love was...it couldn't be explained... _he_ couldn't explain it.

It was the heavy stare of deep blue eyes with so much depth that would never look away. It was a wide grin and tear streaked cheeks. It was that raspy voice with so much innocence yet so much pain. A person who didn't seek to change him, but to understand him. Someone willing to walk the ends of the earth for him even when everyone had given up, even if _he_ himself had given up. The one that claimed him his one and only friend, bleeding before him, damaged beyond repair, yet still fighting for the one that he proudly proclaimed his other half.

No. Sakura did not love him, and in time..she would know it too, she would realize that what little left of his heart belonged to someone else. That there would only ever be one person he would love...would willingly admit to love, even if he himself had just realised it.

He only shook his head lightly at her, feeling no ounce of shame at her slumped shoulders or even Kakashi's knowing stare. Without a word he was off to start his journey of redemption...a strange pain in his chest at the absence of one blonde haired idiot.

* * *

"You didn't think I would just let you go did you?" Sasuke couldn't help the small almost unnoticeable smile at the familiar husky voice. A strange soothing balm for turbulent thoughts, or when he would get lost in dark memories of old. Above them birds chirped cheerfully, an endless song that would usher new peace, at least for some time. The wind fluttered around them, a slight chill that went unnoticeable as he turned to watch the one person that he could never rid himself of. Naruto...he looked...beautiful wasn't enough, it wasn't near enough...and neither was it fitting. He was so much more, with his wide blue eyes filled with lessons learned and earned wisdom, soft tan skin and a wide grin. Blonde hair fluttering in the wind, a chaotic mess as it always was, brushing at his shoulders.

"Naruto." Sasuke said simply, heart skipping when Naruto frowned for a moment, before his shoulders slumped and he looked away, soft lip held between his teeth.

"You didn't ask me to join you." Naruto whispered softly, hand clenching around his prosthetic arm.

"I didn't ask you to join me because I know you would have said yes. You're an idiot like that." Sasuke smirked. His amusement only grew at Naruto unimpressed scowl, face steadily getting red before he simply deflated, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Just...don't go running off this time ok." Naruto mumbled, blush heavy as he held out a familiar head band. The metal was worn, scratches littering what was once a smooth surface. Despite that, it was obviously well cared for, he could just imagine the idiot sitting up at night, diligently wiping away non-existent dirt and smudges, just willing him to return to konoha...return to him.

"How long?" Sasuke's voice deep, yet strangely soft, a hand hesitating for just a moment before resting on Naruto's warm cheek. Said teen almost nuzzled into the touch, hand curling around a pale wrist. He wouldn't have answered, he honestly wouldn't have, but... he had all but confessed amidst their battle, laid himself bare... and he had never been a coward or delusional...not when so many claimed him to be.

"I don't quite know that myself, I just know it made me fight for you harder. For you to just understand something for once in your revenge addled mind!"Naruto glared, blue eyes sharped, before softening for a moment.

"Come back, because if you don't you can bet i'll be hauling your ass back home. Believe it!" Naruto grinned, yet no one could mistake the seriousness in his declaration. Sasuke chuckled for a moment, a low surprising sound that Naruto honestly hadn't quite gotten get used to. Without a word, all hesitance left his body in that moment, staring into blue eyes...he kissed soft lips, a lingering touch that he deepened as Naruto's arms circled around his neck, his body pressed so close to his own. For just amount he felt complete, even with an arm missing. Just the feel of Naruto in his arms was enough to anchor him, enough for him to believe that this world deserved a second chance...that he deserved a second chance.

"Naruto...I.."

"I know... just hurry back ok." Naruto whispered, grinning before he stepped away from Sasuke, headband held out to the shinobi yet again. Without a word he took it, his hand brushing against Naruto's warm skin.

"I meant it you know...you're my one and only." There was something dark and almost frightening in Sasuke's gaze, but Naruto was not afraid. He understood...he had learned to understand. It was enough for his heart to leap, his emotions almost betraying him at the strange burn at his eyes.

"Ashiteru, Sasuke." Naruto simply smiled, not waiting for a reply as he turned to leave. Before he could, a strong hand held his own, Sasuke standing ever so close as he finally wrapped his arm around Naruto's waist from the back.

"Ashiteru, Naruto. Wait for me...will you?" It was a stupid question, he would always wait for him, and if he took too long..well...he'd just have to chase him down like he always did.

Afterall, Sasuke was his one and only too...


	8. Chapter 8

Pairing: Jack Frost x Harry Potter

Prompt: Soulmate AU

Special note: Soulmate tattoos that act like mood rings

**Requested by Multiplelifes**

Breathe…

Exhale…

Breathe…

Listen to the ringing song of that piano, the endless chords that flow so smoothly, like a never ending dance racing towards completion. The strum of a violin, the delicate lover that will hold your hand…whisper sweet nothings in your ear. There it is again, that piano, she sings to his soul, and he responds. He breathes… he exhales… he is free.

Harry couldn't help the exhausted smile as he completed his final stretch, green eyes a tale of wonder as he watched the falling snow from the wide windows of the ballet studio. He was sweaty, hot and more than tired…but he felt so complete, the warmth of that special mark upon his wrist soothing the ever present anxiety he had at a time like this. Against all odds he had been chosen, he would star in the leading role of the swan queen Odette in Moscow, Russia. It wouldn't be his first trip to the country, he was practically a citizen. He had made the trip himself when he was very much young and inexperienced, the smiling visage of his parents at his back.

He had set out to become a prima ballerina one day, he trained hard…he fell hard…he lost hard, but in the end he had become the new signed dancer for the Classical Russian Ballet. His father had been…proud. James Potter wasn't much for the fine arts, even made fun of it in his youth, sighting that such feats were emasculating and not worth his time. His tune had quickly changed in light of his only child's passion. How could he claim something that his son loved not worth his time? He didn't understand it, this drive…the pursuit Harry had in mind, but he would stick by him one hundred percent. Even if his coworkers mocked him for a son that didn't live up to the image of "masculinity." Never mind that at just eleven, said boy could lift a ninety-five pound thirteen year old in the air, without a stagger or even strain.

Harry smiled lightly, eyes soft as he watched the crystal snow flake tattoo on his wrist change colour, a light almost silvery blue before it was white once more, appearing silver against his pale skin. _He_ was here…and having the time of his life he could see.

"Hey pothead! Talking to your imaginary lover again?!" A scornful voice interrupted his muse. With a light sigh, Harry opened a bottle of water, barely acknowledging his latest annoyance as a few locks of damp raven hair escaped their messy bun to fall into his eyes.

He had gotten used to this…the scorn, or was it jealousy? It could be jealousy, Harry mused as spared Draco a single look. He was a beautiful man, platinum blond hair neat and caught in a high ponytail, cascading past his shoulders. A perfect silhouette too, clad in a fitted long sleeve black shirt and equally fitted ballet leggings. His piercing blue eyes were…troubled, sad…even with that scowl on his face, gaze straying to the almost invisible mark upon Harry's wrist.

That's right, Draco had always made it his mission to mess with him, bring him down. A strange sense of possessiveness when anyone would show him, Harry the time of day. His behavior had only gotten worse as they grew together in their company, from little boys of eight to twenty-one year olds. A behavior that had become worse at the appearance of a soul mark upon Harry's pale skin. A delicate unique snowflake, that changed colours at the drop of a hat, a marking of the one that was his destined other half's forever changing moods.

Soulmates. It was something beautiful, enchanting…a wonder that brought so much heartache yet so much love. Not everyone had a soul mate…not many lived long enough to see the appearance of that simple mark that would define their true love. Even then, not many were strong enough to handle the influx of emotions that weren't their own. Almost like if he knew _h_ e was thinking of him, the mark heated up once an aurora of colour that glowed brightly, gaining the looks of curious ballet dancers, the young ballerinas giggling with light blushes and prima ballerina, looking on with a strange sense of pride and sadness as she studied her prize student.

She had lost her soulmate, Anastasia, to a sport she had loved dearly. Professional skiing. A freak accident that no one could have predicted much less plan for, and just like that she was gone, and along with her the soul mark that would have bound them for an eternity.

"I will be the next prima ballerina! This gig of your means nothing Potter, even with your stupid soul mark and stupid soulmate! They don't really love you, all they will do is hurt you and I'll stand by and watch you suffer!" Draco hissed, uncaring at the furious glares he was given by their fellow dancers.

Soulmates…it was something beautiful, but it was also a concept that could see you hurt beyond repair. Draco Malfoy had a soulmate once, was happy for a moment…but then, his soulmate she loved someone else. She did not want to be with him, but with her lover from her teen days. She had left him with a proclamation that they should only be friends. That's right, you could find your soulmate…it didn't mean you had to be with them. Harry sighed, he wouldn't show pity…Draco didn't need pity. Without a word he approached the suddenly suspicious dancer, smiling softly as he stood right before him, without a thought he gently kissed his forehead, whispering—

"Merry Christmas, Draco." And he was out the door, a pleasant smile as he took his jacket from his instructor and left the studio. He had someone to go meet…he had left him waiting for too long now. He was unaware of the steady stream of crystal tears that painted Draco's cheeks, or the small smile that was the first for many years.

* * *

"Odette the Swan Queen…I don't know, you look like an Ice Prince to me." Harry didn't have to turn around to know who it was. If the deep voice didn't give it away, or the sudden increase in the chill of the frozen lake he stood…then the flashing colours of his soul mark would.

"And let me guess, you'll be the ice king!" Harry snarked with a roll of his eyes, breath fogging over as he sighed, strong arms wrapping around his slender frame.

"Well it's only right. I _am_ the Jack Frost." Was the cocky reply he was given as he was quite suddenly spun into the man's arms, both slowly skating across the ice, a slow shhh that echoed around them. Harry laughed in joy as he was expertly twirled, shaved ice flying around their feet as snow fell heavily from the sky. He could almost hear that piano and violin again. The song of lovers as Jack smiled down at him, silvery blue eyes alight with childish joy…with fun. The man's laugh was warm, melding perfectly with Harry's own as they twirled in the ice…the perfect duet as they moved in sync.

Breathe…

Exhale…

Breathe…

Harry's heart soared, emerald eyes unable to look away from the man that was his soulmate…the man that many could see, but because he _believed…_

The man that had always been there, a lightning bolt upon his wrist shining gold as the moon shined down on them both.

"Merry Christmas, my love. Watch, in a few years you'll be my beautiful prima ballerina…the Ice Prince who became my beautiful Queen." Jack whispered, an aurora of light shining above them, bells tinkling and the soft strum of a violin twirling around the cords of a piano.

Harry felt no shame when he suddenly tipped up on his toes, kissing Jack's warm lips, before twirling away with laughter.

"Merry Christmas, Jack my heart. My precious Ice King."


	9. Chapter 9

Pairing: Giotto Vongola x Harry Potter

Prompt: "What are you?" "I don't know. Do you know what you are?"

**Requested by Halfway To Reality**

Winter…such a desolate and cold time, where men shivered in the streets, bereft of a home. Along cobbled streets and dark alleys, you would see them. Such a sad and lonely existence, with no one to truly care for their wellbeing. Chimneys smoked, rising tendrils of white that would so easily blend with gently falling snow. Carts were pulled by horses, a steady echoing trot and the baker down the street would smile ever so kindly at the young woman who passed by every night, a bottle of warm milk in hand. She had given birth to twins the townsfolk would whisper, eyes following her form with excitement. Special note taken of her expensive diamond ring that glittered like the stars that hardly shun at the rise of winter.

Marceil was a small little town, the land of which belonged to the famed Vongola, naught but the young heir left surviving after the terrible plague that had cursed their lands for years. Many pitted the young man, Giotto was his name…he seemed forever sad, angry… golden eyes forever staring into that old antique music box many claimed to hear play in the dead of night. It was impossible of course, where he lived…far upon the hills overlooking the town, no one could possibly hear from so far. They had not seen much of the young man since his parent's death, forever held hostage by his grief in a lonely mansion with naught but a single butler for true company.

"Giotto, it is time for bed young master." Butler Francis frowned, expression sad as he watched the forlorn visage of his young master. The child was thirteen years old, with thick blonde hair and rich orange-gold eyes, like the embers of a lit fire...skin tanned and smooth. He, even at such a young age already bore the markings of the handsome man he would grow to be. Giotto didn't say a word, closed music box held in his lap as he stared listlessly out at the moon. It painted an eerie picture, so full and silver, its light cast upon their town, even as snowflakes seemingly fell one at a time. An old dance that not many would understand.

"Giotto." Francis sighed, placing a firm hand on the boy's shoulder, a grip that tightened when he felt the obvious tremors. The boy was holding back tears, hand clasped desperately around the old music box that forever sang out of tune.

"Francis, Christmas as a time of happiness isn't? A time where wishes are granted and magic runs wild across our lands…when the spirits frolic with children and save those who are ill…then why—" Giotto's voice cracked before he could even voice his question. Flashes of his smiling mother and proud father vivid in his mind. How they would make the trip to town to give food and donate blankets. How they would frequent orphanages and give the children toys, abandoning their own child to his solitude. A duty they took upon themselves without payment, only to be repaid with plague and a horrible death.

It wasn't fair! They shouldn't have left him, it was because of the town's people that his parents lay six feet under! They should have stayed with him in their manor, isolated from the town like their ancestors before him. Magic, ha! It didn't exist, if it did… he would have his parents, he would never have lost one thing.

"Giotto, your parents would never have—they loved you very much. They would have wanted you to—Giotto—I—" Francis didn't know what to say, not when large eyes stared up at him with so much hurt. This was a boy who had lost his parents on Christmas day…a boy who no longer believed in the magic of the holiday upon his loss. Hated magic, despite her wonder.

"It's alright, Francis. You don't have to—I—I'll go to bed now." Giotto sighed, placing the music box on his nightstand before shuffling under the sheets. Francis smiled sadly, carefully tucking the boy in, before gently removing a stray lock of hair from his face.

"Let your dreams be at peace, Giotto, and the magic of our land sing true." With that the man left quietly, but not before hearing Giotto's sad whisper of—

"What if I don't believe in magic anymore?" Magic was for fools, and it deserved to die…just like this cursed winter, just like his parents that were so cruelly taken away from him.

* * *

A song… a familiar song was playing, the chords of a piano strumming perfectly along with the out of tune music box that belonged to his mother. Giotto's eyebrows creased in confusion, more so when a frigid cold breeze fluttered through the window of his bedroom that should have been shut. The young boy woke with a frightened start, looking around wildly before he none too gently slammed shut the music box. He could still hear the piano, a muffled sound that came from the music room parallel to his bedroom. Cautiously, the boy left his bed, heart thumping furiously in his chest as he made his way to a room that should have forever remained closed. After all, his mother was no longer there to play the instruments she loved so dearly.

Giotto's eyes widened as he opened the doors, almost blinded for a moment by the bright light of the moon that shone fiercely through the glass. A sweet song with an eerie tune echoed through the room, chords of the piano strummed so quickly that that Giotto's heart raced with fright-anxiety—wonder?

 _"_ _Someone holds me safe and warm_

_Horses prance through a silver storm"_

The song of the music box…the one thing that had given him comfort, sang from the lips of some strange being who played so beautiful upon a black painted piano. And being it was…for this person couldn't possibly be human! Skin pale as snow, lips red as roses and eyes so piercingly green…a colour sharper than any pure emerald he had ever seen! Beautiful…that was the word, even as he silently stepped into the music room, watching as delicate fingers danced over white keys, rave hair curly waves that plummeted to the beings waist.

"What are you?" A childish wonder, even with how rude the question was. The music abruptly stopped, the being's fingers frozen over the piano keys before he slowly turned to face the thirteen year old, a strange almost terrifying smile as the begin tilted his head.

"I don't know." He whispered, emerald eyes sparkling in amusement before suddenly he was before the young teen. Said teen yelping in shock as cold fingers held his cheeks, and emerald eyes peered into his own. Giotto would never admit, but he was afraid, terribly afraid… especially when the piano seemingly began to play on its own…that haunting tune, _Once upon a December_.

"— but for you, you may call me Harry; and you…do you know what you are?" An eerie voice, whispery before the being…this Harry delivered a shark like smile, vanishing as if just a figment of the boy's imagination.

Magic…it wasn't real…right?

* * *

There was a change in Giotto as he grew to become a man, the town's folks would hear tales of his apparent isolation in a music room. An endless haunting melody played for all to hear, like a soul that cried out for help…yet…yet was happy for its torment. Every Christmas that song would play, and in the distance an out of tune music box sang.

"Harry…what…what are you?" Giotto asked softly, he was a man of twenty-three summers, a handsome man. He had grown quite tall, and broad in the shoulders, voice a rumbling baritone that so many ladies would swoon. He paid them no heed, his burning gaze forever set upon the beautiful being that casually lounged atop his piano, humming along to the haunting tune he could never stop playing. He had played until his fingers had bled one time, Francis in horrified shock pulling the man away from the room unable to see the strange being with his ever terrifying smile.

"Harry?" Giotto asked again, hands reaching out to touch soft skin he had never been allowed to touch. A plan foiled when a finger with a pointed nail painted black stopped him in his tracks.

Harry laughed lightly, leaning over the piano, lips almost brushing against Giotto's own trembling ones.

"Again with the questions, Giotto? And yet…you haven't answered my own. Do you know what you are?" Harry whispered, emerald eyes trained on those trembling lips, almost unaware when warm hands so suddenly trailed across the cold skin of his arm. He gasped in in strange wonder when that hand gripped him so tight, a strange anger that called to him. A strange anger made even sweeter by the burning fires of rage in the depths of eyes so gold.

"I am Master…and you are my desire." Giotto glared, the tune of the piano suddenly picking up with great speed, the wind howling furiously as he banged against glass walls.

"Is that so?" Harry drawled, laugh echoing as he captured the man's lips with his own. He didn't even fight it as he was pulled from his lounge, Giotto's arms wrapping around him in a possessive hold, holding him captive in his lap.

"You, Giotto, you are selfish…and I? I am merely the manifestation of your greed. Magic…she can be quite a cruel being." Harry whispered, even as they both vanished upon the last howl of turbulent winds.

Years later, a story would be told of the last Vongola heir who so suddenly disappeared, only a broken music box left in its wake. The eerie tune of Once Upon a December, that should have been beautiful, a terrifying sound.

 _"_ _Far away, long ago_

_Glowing dim as an ember_

_Things my heart used to know_

_Once upon a December"_


	10. Chapter 10

Pairing: Hiashi Hyuga x Harry Potter

Prompt: ( )

Special note: Baker Harry

**Requested by Cherri101**

Harry hissed in pain as he threw open the kitchen windows, new rays of dawn flooding into the large space, and along with it the chirping of much too lively birds. The air was crisp and clean, a tad cold as winter approached, and the sky a flood of lavenders, orange and blue. Next-door, Harry could hear the light tone of his young neighbor, Ana. She was an odd girl many would snipe, sharing distasteful looks as they passed by her apartment. It was unfair their judgment, Harry could tell anyone that. It shouldn't have mattered that she was a teen that had fallen pregnant a little earlier than expected, or that her parents had all but disowned her. What should have mattered was that she was a music prodigy, managing to still follow her dreams upon the gift of a full scholarship...yet loved and adored her child like no other.

Harry smiled at the light curse he could hear as Ana missed a chord on her guitar, her voice cracking as she sang what sounded like an acoustic version of…the one that got away?. Shaking his head in amusement he pinned back the fluttering curtains, before turning to his half mixed bowl of cake batter. He had a limited amount of time to perfect the next piece of pastry that he would hopefully sell to his boss. The old man had requested he make three new holiday specials before time, and if they passed his test, be put on display for Christmas.

"Harry, could you let me in please?" Hermione shouted from outside, she hadn't bothered to ring the doorbell or even knock as Harry had a nasty habit of ignoring everything but a shout these days.

"You might want to shout louder, he claims selective deafness now!" Ana shouted through her window, grinning at Hermione's put upon sigh as she looked up. She liked her neighbor and his eccentric friends, especially that red head that seemed to have two left feet on the best of days. Hermione huffed, pulling her jacket closer as the chill set in, in didn't help that strange enough dots of snow had begun to quite suddenly fall from the sky. So much for a no white Christmas, someone really needed to fire that weatherman!

"How long has been at this, whatever this is." The older woman frowned, pulling her hood over her head as Ana perched on the side of her windowsill, guitar in her lap.

"Ever since…well, they were arguing, not loudly. It was a civilized conversation—I wasn't eavesdropping or anything!—but, Harry sounded conflicted and…he just sounded…I don't even know." Ana frowned sadly, idly plucking a string of her guitar, tilting her head when it sounded like little Charlie was already up. She wouldn't put it past the boy.

Hermione sighed in frustration and a good spot of worry, it was as she had thought then. She didn't quite believe the headlines, but if that toe-rag of a-!

"You are you doing, Ana? I know it's been a little rough lately. You know that Harry and I here to help if you ever—"

"I know, and the answer is still the same. I'll be ok, I've gone through much worse." Ana grinned, though there was a touch of sadness in her light blue eyes. Hermione was about to protest, a long list of arguments and counter-arguments at the tip of her tongue, but didn't get a word out as the door she had stood before for some time now suddenly swung open.

"Sorry, but had to get the cake in the oven first." Harry grinned sheepishly, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose comically. Hermione didn't even know why he still wore them, he had gotten his sight corrected back in University. She remembered, after all she was the one who had accompanied him to the facility.

"I have some blueberry muffins and strawberry tarts for little Charlie whenever he's ready, Ana." Harry grinned, laughing out right when said girl did a strange wiggle on her window sill. They both know who was going to be eating most of those pastries, a quick clue…it wasn't Charlie.

"You're the best, Harry! I'll be right over, just let me see if he's awake," and with that the young girl was gone. Harry only shook his head, ignoring Hermione's unamused stare. Ah…so they were going to talk about _that_.

"At least let me get us some tea first." Harry muttered, fighting not to roll his eyes when the woman huffed, pushing past him obviously annoyed. Across the street the old biddy peeped from her curtains, giving him a scornful look before promptly pulling her curtains shut. What a lovely morning.

* * *

"So let me get this straight, he just left?!" Hermione shouted outraged, sipping at his tea as he watched Harry putter around the kitchen. He had on one of those ridiculous aprons, face smudged with flour and his short curly hair fluttering around his ears. He looked cute in that puppy sort of way, especially with his wide green eyes…she didn't think he would be amused by the thought though.

"You're not listening, Hermione. I told him I needed space, and instead of giving me space he keeps calling and…well…" Harry trialed off, staring out the window with a heavy sigh as he watch the snow fall harder than it had a moment ago.

"Where talking about the same Hiashi _Hy_ _ū_ _ga right? The same thirty-five year old, business tycoon and all around emotionless Hiashi Hy_ _ū_ _ga? And what about the tabloids, it says he has a baby on the way!" Hermione's tone brook no argument, eyes narrowed as she observed how unaffected Harry seemed by the last bit of news._

 _"_ _I'm bisexual. Knew from very young and accepted it, even after the Dursley's threw me out and I wasn't allowed to see my goddaughter until Dudley got over it. He's gay, still very much in the closet and someway along the way I started to feel like some bloody dirty secret." Harry glared, if his grip was just strong enough, Hermione wagered that the glass baking tray would have been broken in multiple places._

"It might be unfair, but…I just didn't want…how many times would I have stand in the background as that weird friend of his, or just a business associate. Mind you how could we possibly be when I'm a baker and he's well…you know what he is." Harry muttered, gently placing the tray on the counter before him, before checking on the cake. It had a ways to go, but the conversation had suddenly gotten him antsy.

"You gave him an ultimatum?" Hermione asked carefully, the conversation wasn't going the way she expected, not at all.

"Gods no! It's like I said, I asked for some space to think things over. I didn't even break up with him…but Hermione, it's hard. It's hard loving someone so much and you can't even show…I'm here sneaking around like some..." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose before sitting in front of his friend, collecting himself for a moment.

"Harry—"

"The baby is from a surrogate. His family has been pressuring him for a true heir for some time now…and well, he wanted kids of his own. He thinks Neji needs some company too." Harry could already read Hermione's mind. The situation didn't seem fair to unborn child, sounded almost like an obligation and nothing more…but, he knew Hiashi. He might be cold…but he would love that child with all he had, and maybe the baby would give him the strength to stand up against his family's oppressive traditions and sense of normal.

"So…what's the next move? You said he keeps calling, does that means he wants to…I don't know, fix your relationship?" Hermione sighed, almost jumping when Harry's phone suddenly went off…Hiashi written across the screen.

Sighing, Harry ended the incoming call, Ana's voice echoing loudly as both she and her son cheerfully asked to be let in.

"I honestly don't know Hermione." Harry muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

* * *

 

The wipers sounded loud to Harry's ears as he turned into the parking lot of Konoha General Hospital. The snowfall was heavy by now, gathering on the windscreen as Harry switched off the ignition. Clutching his phone and taking a deep breath, he took an anxious breath before squaring his shoulders and exiting the car.

_Harry…please, I need you._

Harry didn't know why but, he was exceedingly nervous. His heart raced and his throat was dry, and on top of that his forehead felt strangely hot. He garnered curious stares from passing nurses, but once he flashed them a small yet shaky smile they let him be. Not without concerned frowns and twitching hands, as if they wished to wrap him up and never let go.

Harry froze when the double doors of the waiting room swung open. It was Hiashi, in the middle of room pacing anxiously, his family observing with great worry. They spared Harry a curious look, the action capturing Hiashi's attention.

"Harry." It was whispered with so much relief, a breath of desperation, worry and so much hope. Harry hesitated for a moment, wondering what exactly he should say. The choice was taken out of his hand when the man so suddenly enveloped him a tight hug. Without thought Harry wrapped his arms around the man, finger's buried in long silky hair. This was so unlike the man…showing such vulnerability in public, in front of his family. It was understandable…his child, their seemed to be some complication with the baby and-

Harry was pulled from his thought by the sudden tug of his pants. He looked down to see a five year old Neji, bundled up in so many jackets he looked right about to tilt over, wide lavender eyes filled with wonder.

"Are you Uncle's special person? He said he was really pretty and you look really pretty." Neji bit his lips nervously. Harry could only look on in shock, green eyes quickly catching Hiashi's warm gaze.

"Yes Neji, this is Harry. You'll be seeing a lot more of him…that's if he still—"

"I call you Uncle Harry then!" Neji demanded, completely cutting off Hiashi and garnering amused laughter from the gathered Hyūga family. Harry honestly didn't know what to say, observing the hope in Hiashi's eyes, and the silent acceptance from the man's family.

When had it all changed? Feeling tears brimming at the corner of his eyes, a silent nod to Hasashi that yes...he was willing to work on things again. Willing to save their relationship, he stooped down to look directly into the boys eyes.

"Neji right? I would really love that." It didn't even surprise him when the child so suddenly threw himself in his arms, obviously happy with the turn of events.

"Harry, thank-you for coming." Hiashi spoke, they had a lot to figure out…they both knew it, but for now…they would be ok.


	11. Chapter 11

Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Harry Potter

Prompt: (Harry meets a stranger's dog unexpectedly)

Special note: Harry is a bit like Molly Weasley and Naruto owns something in Switzerland

**Requested by Feralal2232**

_Rudolph the red nose reindeer,_

_Had a very shiny nose,_

_And if you ever saw it_

_You would even say it glows_

Hums filled the small kitchen as Harry happily sauntered around, a big tray of unbaked cookies placed on the counter as he preheated the oven. He should have done so before, but he had been too excited to try out Mrs. Weasley's recipe. The woman was of course saddened that Harry wouldn't be able to make the trip to England to celebrate Christmas with her…but there was always New Years.

From the living room Harry could hear his dog King Padfoot yapping away. He could just imagine how his tiny claws would scratch at freshly painted doors—yes he painted his doors inside and out sue him!—running in a circle obviously frustrated. Padfoot was a curious little thing, a Schipperke with a black shiny coat and much too small to be the source of that much mischief. Harry loved him anyway.

"Ma!" Teddy chirped from his comfy seat, banging a plastic spork and splashing apple sauce every which way. The little rascal looked proud of himself too as he grinned up at the put upon Harry, said man shaking his head lightly as he ruffled dirty blond hair.

"Of course, make my life harder by splashing apple sauce on the floors I just cleaned." Harry teased gently poking Teddy's little nose, watching as the baby went cross-eyed only to then squeal in excitement. Of course the happy moment was short lived when King Padfoot got even louder, his barks echoing loud enough to frighten poor Teddy. The baby didn't take to being frightened and promptly began to wail, big blue eyes pinning Harry with an accusing look. Harry's heart bled, it was known throughout their family how much of a fool he was for the little baby, easily caving to the child's whims. He vehemently denied it of course, and when he on an off day actually confirmed it, he would state quite firmly that it was just until baby had grown a little more.

No one believed him of course.

Without hesitation Harry quickly wrapped Teddy in his arms, gently rubbing his back as the child burrowed his little head in the grove of his neck. Blonde curls tickled at his mouth, but he didn't much mind, making his way to the door Padfoot was barking at in strange excitement.

"Alright already, you crazy little thing you!" Harry shouted, though it was obvious how amused he was a she finally pulled the doors open. It was bloody cold was Harry's first thought as he shut his eyes on instinct, snow falling and wind out of control. He thought it might have been better to wrap Teddy up before opening the doors even if he wasn't going outside.

His heart all but leapt out of his chest and lodged in his throat though when he finally realized what had gotten King Padfoot so excited.

"Bloody hell!" Harry gasped in fright, no ounce of shame for emulating hi best friend in that moment. I mean, who wouldn't curse with the bloody monstrosity that stood before him.

It was a gigantic Alaskan malamute, with strange red eyes that pierced through his soul, his tongue lolling out of his head with his heavy pants. Harry swallowed nervously, by god the dog was huge, looked more like a wolf than a dog even with his fluffy coat and really really large paws. He wondered how quickly he would die if he decided to pounce, or dear lord, Teddy! What if Mr. too—big—to—be—a— bloody—dog!—decided to make Teddy into clam chowder!

"H—hey, l—little—I mean big man! Are you l—lost?!" Harry all but squeaked, heart thudding painfully as he pulled back Teddy's curious hand. He needed to teach Teddy that it was not ok to go sticking your hands out at large wolf like creatures who would eat you with hot sauce and a sprinkle of bacon...human bacon! There was no shame in ear splitting scream he let out, backing away terrified as the dog let loose a thunderous bark, he could practically hear the crockery shaking from in the kitchen sink! King Padfoot of course was no bloody help, the little dog excitedly nipping at the Malamute's heels, uncaring that with one good step he's be flattened out like some sad pancake!

"Kyubi, damn it!" A loud, deep voice shouted from across the road, not that Harry had anytime to focus on that with the bloody dog advancing with—my god the dog was smirking!—rows of very pointy teeth.

Harry was going to bloody scream again, he was even if Teddy was laughing his little head off at ease with the whole situation and Padfoot just sat on his bum wagging his tail.

"Dear lord, forgive me for I have sinned. Is this why you have sent the dogs of hell to destroy my loathsome pagan soul!" Harry muttered furiously, green eyes wide at the advancing dog. He almost missed it when a tanned hand so suddenly shot out, a firm grip on the dog's collar—how had he missed that!

"Whoa there boy! You can't just go barging onto people's property even if their out of this word beautiful!" It was a blonde man, very blonde man that must have been way over six feet tall with broad shoulders and muscled arms. The man had striking blue eyes, as he shot Harry a wide grin, holding out a large hand in greeting.

"Hey there! I'm Naruto, I hope this big softy didn't give you a fright!" Harry's once wide eyes twitched in instant annoyance. Big softy his blood arse! This Kyubi almost mauled him to death and threatened to turn him into crunchy crispy bacon bits! Without a word Harry scowled, slamming the door shut in Naruto's face, an awkward as the door was flung open and King Padfoot was ushered inside, the door slam shut once again.

"Oi! What the hell was that for?!" Naruto shouted offended, Kyubi tilting his head in confusion before letting out a pitiful whine, he had wanted rub against the pretty human.

* * *

Harry sighed, with a roll of his eyes as King Padfoot whined and scratched at the door, to the left Teddy frowned at him with watery eyes of accusation.

"I'm not letting that that…that beast in here!" Harry scowled, hearing Naruto's protest from outside. The man had surprisingly clean ears, he would hear a whisper from a mile away. The man hadn't let up in getting to know him, he and his dog would stake out at the front of his yard when he would return form the groceries. He was honestly surprised when it was revealed that Naruto Uzumaki was the owner of that ski resort way up in the mountains. Owned more than one property up there even, a family inheritance many whispered, but in truth it was simply the man's own built legacy. He was hardworking, a good business mind about him…attractive. Harry could practically feel his blush and steadfastly pushed it down. He was not going there! Ever! He moved to Switzerland just so he could get away from relationship things…he was sure Molly would have a field day with the new development.

"Oi! Harry open up! Pretty please, I promise I won't break anything else and Kyubi too…he won't break another vase or steal your cookies!" The man sounded like a kicked puppy, and maybe Harry was being a little cruel leaving him out there but—

He glanced over at both Teddy and King Padfoot that were giving him the puppy eyes at that point. With a long suffering sigh, Harry finally got up, dragging his feet as he swung the door open. Before he even got a word out Kyubi was busy lapping at his face before promptly speeding pass to raid his kitchen, King Padfoot puttering behind. Unamused Harry looked up at Naruto—because yes, the man towered over him—who gave rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, holding out a sad looking bouquet of flowers.

"I'm sorry! I really am!" Naruto grinned sheepishly, especially as the sound of what must be a dozen plates breaking and a child cheering loudly echoed throughout the house. Sighing, Harry grabbed the flowers, indicating with ahead for the man to just get in already. There was no getting rid of Naruto Uzumaki.

* * *

Teddy squealed in delight as Naruto zoomed him through the air, making funny plane noises that Harry would admit actually amused even him. Across his lap was Kyubi, quietly snuffling as Harry knitted—yes, he knitted!—just another reason Molly claimed him her favourite child. Padfoot barked happily at Naruto's heel, the man almost tripping over the excitable creature with a joyous laugh.

"Alright! Enough of that you three, it's Teddy's bedtime." Harry smiled, denying that his heart skipped a beat a minute when that handsome had turned to pout at him.

"But ma!" Naruto wined, a teasing grin as Harry glared at him. Without a word Harry gently took the baby from the man, said man accompanying him on his trip upstairs. In no time they had gotten Teddy to bed, not after Naruto snag quite off key mind you to the baby. Harry sighed happily, gently brushing the blonde locks from the child's forehead.

"You know…he almost looks like my kid." Naruto mused, ignoring Harry's incredulous stare as he too pushed a lock of hair out the child's face.

"So Harry, will you finally give me an answer?" The man was serious Harry could tell, the usual amusement absent from his voice as blue eyes pinned him place.

"N—Naruto…" Harry cursed himself for the stutter, flinching for a second when large warm hands covered his own.

"Will you let me take you out? See the resort and the mountains…dinner after maybe?" Naruto grinned, thumb caressing the soft skin of Harry's hand.

"I…well… if you insist…" Harry tried to act reluctant but he knew the man saw right through it, blue eyes lighting up in excitement.

"Yatta!" Naruto cheered loudly, almost waking Teddy and receiving an unimpressed Harry.

"Sorry, sorry." Naruto laughed, rubbing at the back of his head as he settled down again.

"You're hopeless." Harry sighed, silently rising from the bed. He had a sweater to finish knitting, if it was for Naruto…well the man didn't need to know.

"Hey Harry! Since you accepted, does it mean I can kiss you?!"

"No, you bloody pervert!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M. Reader discretion is advised

Pairing: Tobirama Senju X Madara Uchiha

Prompt: ( I own you)

Special note: Madara has a little of a potty mouth (either in his head or out of it) would appreciate intimate moment.

**Requested by Burgawith**

Intellectual, star athlete, top of his grade, number one in their faculty, and all around Mr. Prestige and Popularity. He clenched in teeth in fury, the rhythmic splash of water and muted conversation doing nothing to soothe his steadily increasing ire. Everyone fell for the disgusting act, whether it was to fawn over his handsome face or simper about his accomplishments like it was _their_ own…as if they _owned_ the man. It made him sick, literally physically ill to just be in the presence of mindless fools and simpering idiots. To be in the shadow of Tobirama Senju, forever relegated to the place of second best, forever second best in light of the damn Senju's continued success.

The man didn't even have the decency to act affected, appreciative even. His success was like old news, something he didn't much care for surrounded by his damn mindless fans and imbecilic thralls. It was clear they didn't have taste if they considered that the heights of the perfect male specimen. Madara scowled as the very man of his thoughts so easily removed his shirt, not a care given to hi watchers as he absentmindedly flexed a more than defined back, the curious print of a roaring snow tiger dominating the expanse of said back. Disgusting! He wouldn't admit that for just a moment, when the man slowly glanced in his direction, chiseled features and emotionless red eyes, silver hair fluttering in his face something odd poked at his senses. That for a moment he felt like prey pinned in place, the grip on his pen tight and his book almost slipping from his lap.

He glared at the damn man, and just like that was filed under non-threat as Tobirama arched an eyebrow. He would have shouted, demand the Senju pay him the respect that he was due, but wouldn't act the fool. Wouldn't humiliate himself like the vultures wanted, judgmental eyes boring into his frame as they waited for him to make to mistake, recognizing that their _god_ had just dismissed him as _nothing_. Madara furiously slammed his book shut, pencil snapping in half as none too gently grabbed his bag and with as much dignity as possible stormed out of the indoor pools.

Ignoring all around him, nothing hard to do when they gave him the usual wide berth—he wasn't known for his good attitude after all—Madara angrily stacked his books in his rented locker, only pulled away from his enraged thoughts by the buzz of his phone.

_My place at 8:00 pm. Do us a favour and don't be late- TS_

Madara scowled again, Tobirama was the most arrogant, egotistical, self-centered piece of shit he had ever had the misfortune of meeting. How dare he assume he would just fold to his demands just because he said so! It didn't matter that he was going to be there at any rate or that he sure as hell wasn't going to be late!

He hated Tobirama Senju, and no one could convince him otherwise. He studiously ignored how tight his chest feel or how he nervously bit his lips, flicking his thick hair over his shoulders as he left for kendo practice.

* * *

"That must suck! Being paired up with Madara Uchiha of all people!" Tobirama grunted as one if his teammates punched him the arm. He only rolled his eyes at the idiot, hastily pulling his shirt over his head as the locker room got even rowdier with the arrival of the rest of the team. They were the national champions, the team to beat or rather he was the national champion and along with him talented swimmers who hadn't quite beaten his domination in the pool.

"You gotta admit though, Madara Uchiha has a nice fat ass!" Someone shouted from the back rooms, the entire locker room erupting in leers and juvenile cheers. No wonder Madara couldn't stand the lot of them, the man had no problem breaking a few wrist and dislocating the shoulder of whoever got too handsy with him.

"Pfft, that ice bitch wouldn't give you the time of day even if you begged, Jahiro!" Of course that set off another round of raucous laughter, some fool in the back making humping motions with exaggerated expressions of ecstasy.

"!" The entire locker room froze, terrified even when Tobirama forcefully slammed his locker, the entire set threating to tilt over as it wobbled. He was obviously pissed, you didn't need to see the tightness of his muscles or how hell fire burned in blood red eyes to figure that out! A couple of the swimmers gulped as Tobirama silently walked pass, bag casually thrown over one shoulder, a frigid baritone—

"I'm out." The only words from his lips as he disappeared around the corner, shoes a soft echo that gradually faded. A tense breath was released simultaneously, the swimmers slumping against their lockers and wiping cold sweat from their foreheads. Sometimes it was easy to forget how damn terrifying Tobirama Senju was. He wasn't like his jolly crazy brother that ran around singing about the power of freaking love. He was a damn devil that reigned in the scorching pits of hell and laughed about it.

"What the hell was his problem?!" Someone muttered incredulously, there was no mistaking the wheezing quality to the voice.

* * *

Madara growled in frustration as he lined up the car for the hundredth freaking time! He hated the damn Senju's parking lot, for his stupid ass bachelor pad at stupid ass penthouse level. Damn rich egotistical bastard! Never mind the fact that he too was from money, he just decided living on the dorms was better…had nothing to do with him spying on his little brother! Not one damn connection there! Switching off the ignition, Madara furiously slammed the door shut, swinging his bag over his shoulders, only for the gods to decide that in that moment they hated him, a shower of rain soaking him to the bone.

"This is all your fucking fault, Senju!" Madara all but screamed, not the least bit surprised when a large albino husky came running from the apartment building, to pull at the foot of his pants in excitement. It was Tobirama's dog, he knew because he had been here before, _once_. The dog had grown on him, the arrogant ass…not so much.'

Grumbling, Madara followed after the dog, greeting the door man that looked on with a raised eyebrow. Yes Madara knew he was an outright mess. Some of his thick hair slipping out of its high ponytail, plastered against his neck and back, his clothes almost a second skin, his shoes squeaking forever movement. He bet the damn Senju was going to have a ball with this.

"Took your damn time." Madara glared when the private elevator opened up in the receiving room of Tobirama's bachelor pad. The man was casually leaned against the door, red eyes trailing up Madara's body with a strange emotion the Uchiha didn't want to figure out, eyeing his sorry state.

"Move out of the way, Senju!" Madara hissed, steadily ignoring the amused chuckle as he pushed past the man none too gently! He was going to get changed damn it! Marco, the husky looked at the two strange humans, tilting his head cutely before barking happily, running after the clearly agitated man.

"Why come in, make yourself at home." Tobirama deadpanned, gently closing the door behind him with an audible click.

* * *

Madara swallowed uncomfortably, desperately trying to pull Tobirama's black shirt over his thighs. Of course it only resulted in the wide sleeve falling off his shoulder and exposing his pale skin. The damn Senju seemed to get some sick amusement from his discomfort, casually sat before him, laptop in across his lap and intense red eyes trailing up the soft skin of his thigh. He cursed the day he decided he didn't need to wear underwear…he wouldn't have been in this situation otherwise.

"I propose sexual arousal is mere biology. It has nothing to do with emotions, and is merely a biological reaction induced for the sole purpose of recreation." Madara began, shifting his laptop around, refusing to look at Tobirama. He could do this, finish this damn project, and get the hell out of here. He didn't even flinch when the Senju suddenly decided to change seats, and sat entirely too close to him. He could practically feel the man's body heat. How it seeped into his own body, and warmed places that it had no business warming. How just his scent triggered memories of that one stupid night, a hot mouth against his skin and the slow drag of skin against skin—

"Just biological? What about social influences…emotional influences. Be they passion, hatred...lust." Madara swallowed tightly when Tobirama looked directly into his eyes, voice low and entirely too smooth, his breath hitching when strong hands trailed up his inner thighs. A slow burning trail that ventured far too close to where he wanted it most. would deny he wanted it most. Madara swallowed tightly, hand clamping around Tobirama's hand as he tried desperately to remain in control, glaring into far too amused eyes.

" It's as I said, biological triggers. Nothing less, nothing more." He hissed, even when that hand refused to move, a thumb caressing his trembling thighs.

"Care to prove that?" Tobirama smirked, no shame as he gently stroked Madara's arousal, the moan barely holding in a moan as he tightened his grip around his wrist. Madara wanted to fight it, damn it he wanted to fight it, but his body betrayed him. A moan escaped red bitten lips, his body shaking as the man leaned over him, resting between his thighs as he pushed the too large shirt up his thighs and over his head

"The truth of the matter is…you can't prove this is only biological. I know it…you know it…otherwise you wouldn't be here. Legs wrapped around me…pupils blown wide…just begging for me to take you like I did two weeks ago." Tobirama hissed into Madara's ear. The Uchiha of course glared furiously, even as Tobirama kissed down the slope of his neck, breath teasing over an erect nipple as ever nerve was set afire within him. Nails bit into Tobirama's back, as a hot mouth latched onto a much too sensitive nipple, the sound obscene before he trailed almost chaste kisses down the length of trembling skin, just hovering where he slowly worked Madara's straining length.

"Damn you, Senju." Madara hissed, moaning was he was swallowed whole, a wet glide down much too hot skin a she gently rolled his hips. Fuck he wanted to fight it! God knows he wanted to fight it, but damn! When that hot tongue sneaked past his length, teasing at his hole, before lips locked around his rim…he lost it! He arched of the damn sofa, blood rushing in his ear as thighs locked around Tobirama's shoulder. The man wouldn't let up, god damn it, he wouldn't let up. He was sopping wet, legs trembling as he twisted about the damn sofa, hands tearing at soft cotton and finding no escape.

"Just do it already!" Madara screamed in frustration, fighting against the large hands that bit into the flesh f his thighs, keeping him there—torturing him!

"Completely biological he says." Tobirama mocked, a wicked glint as he looked up from Madara's spread thighs, biting into the available flesh of the one that had always belonged to him, even when he denied it.

Madara didn't even have the time to protest as Tobirama thrust into him, his cock spreading him apart. The preparation wasn't enough. Hardly enough! But it burned so good! He didn't have time to adjust, books and pens clattering to the floor as Tobirama bent him to his will. Parting his slim thighs to chase his completion. A strong thrust after another, skin slapping against skin…a sting that had him moaning for all to hear. His eyes fluttered, vision blurring and his heart racing when his legs were thrown over the man's shoulder.

What the hell was he doing?! He hated Tobirama, but hear he was—

"Fuck!" Madara groaned, grinding against that too wide cock that touched every inch of him, pushed against that one spot that would see him undone. Above him Tobirama's muscles rippled, the strain of holding back taking its toll on him. He was a wild creature, he wasn't meant to hold back, cock pulsing and heat unbearable between them silver hair plastered to his forehead as he pushed deeper than any other had reached.

Madara couldn't breathe! He couldn't breathe as he clawed down that powerful back, clamping around the man. Unimaginably tight, that for the first time Tobirama cursed. Biting through his lip, hips snapping against that firm ass, willing Madara to just break, scream out his damn name like that night before. Let the damn world know that he fucking owned him!

"You fucking, Senju!" Madara screamed, eyes rolling in the back of his head as his body seized, muscles straining as he all but arced off the damn sofa, locking around Tobirama like some damn vice, toes curling. His body jerked furiously with his release.

"Shit!" Tobirama hissed, all but folding Madara in half as he came furiously, hands leaving bruises against pale skin, chest heaving as sweat slid down his neck, and down a muscled chest. His breath was uneven as he slumped against Madara's body. Still very much sheathed in that tight heat, but had no intentions of pulling out. Trembling arms wrapped around him, elegant fingers combing through his hair in some lethargic trance as their bodies cooled.

"This still doesn't mean anything. Just like the last time meant nothing, and the time before that, and the time before that." Madara muttered tiredly, his entire body ached, he doubted very much that he was getting home tonight.

"Keep telling yourself that, Uchiha. At the end of the day…I very much own every single inch of your body, every single inch of your mind…every trace of your very soul." Tobirama's deep voice rumbled, blood red eyes daring Madara to protest, to deny this.

In the distant room Marco could be heard barking at nothing in particularly, both men locked in a battle of wills, Madara glaring for all he was worth, looking away with a curse under his breath. He didn't have the energy to fight, to stand his ground… maybe later when he had his wits about him.

_Fucking, Senju._


End file.
